Uptown Girls
by cloudofcalm
Summary: AU - When Cordelia Chase runs out of money, she becomes nanny to a very strange, very smart little girl. Who isn't entirely keen on nannies in general and will try anything to get rid of Cordy
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, they are the property of Joss Whedon et al. I do not own the majority of the plot, it is based on a challenge by gidgetgirl at CCS archive. 

A/N: Yeah I know. Two challenge responses, one week. It's just – I've seen this done, and it wasn't enough to make my own plotbunny regarding this go away. Anyway, I've fiddled around with the characters a wee bit, as you'll soon see. 

*

The big, black car pulling up at the curb was long, sleek and shiny and purred to a halt outside the townhouse. The fresh green of the hedge was divided by a wrought iron black gate, which opened onto a stone path up to the red front door. The door opened, and a young woman in her early twenties walked hastily down the path, glancing back up the house, and clambered into the car. It pulled away from the pavement, and disappeared. At the window, a small girl could be seen smiling, satisfied, as she dusted off her hands. 

*

"What do you mean, gone?" Cordelia Chase lowered the sunglasses on her nose, and stared at her father. 'Ripper' looked apologetic, shrugging his shoulders. 

"Love, I'm sorry. But my records aren't selling as much, and money was tight before you hired that accountant." He glanced at his watch briefly, and then back up to his daughter's astonished face. 

"Got to go. My agent's got a meeting with a couple of new labels, we're hoping to push my old stuff back out there, send it all up again." He kissed the top of her head as he walked past, and out of the mansion. 

Cordelia 'Diamonds are nice. But Tiffany's entire stock is better' Chase sat in stunned silence for a few more moments. 

The marble, ritzy mansion situated in the best of locations, Bellair, gone. Repossessed by the bank. Her credit cards were going to be cut up tomorrow. And her dad, the famous, sexy –in-an-old-Dad-like-way, 'Ripper' of the cult like followers of the eighties was poor? 

"This is not happening," Cordelia said out loud, to nobody in particular. "I refuse to let it happen." 

And that accountant, Cordelia's finely arched eyebrows knitted together. Admittedly, she'd hired him for his butt, but who'd suspect such dastardly thieving of a girl's clothing allowance from so big a cutie with gorgeous green eyes as Parker Abrams? If she ever found him again, he would pay. Big time. 

She tossed back her hair. Cordelia Chase, get a job? Not in this century. 

*

"Come down. Now." 

Biting her lip, the little girl shimmied down the tree with practised ease, and landed at the foot of it neatly. Instantly assuming an innocent expression, her hands folded behind her back, batting her long eyelashes at her Daddy, and standing perfectly correctly, she attempted to appear above suspicion.

"Sorry, love. Not going to cut it," her father informed her, trying to keep the tiny smile out of his voice. She was so very much her mother's daughter at times. The little face fell for a moment then any trace of guilt was wiped away.

"Just tell me," he groaned, contemplating the hiring process of yet another nanny, "What did you do this time?" 

The little girl's lips quirked in a similar, sly half-smile. 

"That would be telling, Daddy," she informed him. 

*

"I don't believe this," Cordelia moaned, holding the newspaper disgustedly by the very tips of her fingers. "I was made to be a nice ornament, you know, with the expensive dresses, big smiles, cute guys.." She sighed heavily. "Why did Daddy have to go and get himself poor, anyway?" She decided to leave out the little matter of her accountant's embezzlement. It so wasn't important when the focus right now was pitying her. 

Harmony nodded her agreement, playing with the swizzle stick in her drink as she rested her chin on her other hand, her long blonde hair falling forwards. 

"You know, Cordy, you can always come and stay at mine," she offered. Cordelia's face brightened momentarily. Harmony smirked. "Mommy was saying one of the maids was fired for stealing the silver. You could even fit into the uniform. Grey is one of your colours, right?" 

"You know," Cordelia addressed her, a hint of snark entering her voice, "Harmony, I at least know I could take a job. And I could do it well. You know why? Beause I," Cordelia flipped her dark brown hair behind her shoulders proudly, "Have a brain. Whereas you can do nothing except sip expensive, oh so tacky drinks and wear off the rack Gucci, unaware that you are wasting your whole life." Cordelia curled her lip. "And Harmony?" 

The blonde looked up. "Orange as the new black is so over," Cordelia told her triumphantly, before stalking out of the drinks bar.

"Let me see," Cordelia scanned the newspaper, poring over it as though it contained the beauty secrets of how to avoid cellulite without all that icky sweating. "Maid, no. Um, truck driver, ew, no. Hmm. Party clown. Ick, no. Polyester?" she shuddered in loathing. "Nanny." 

She glanced at her bag, resting on the side, and the lone credit card, 'emergencies only' tucked inside. Sighing, Cordelia circled the 'nanny' ad with her red pen, and tucked the newspaper into her bag. 

*

Cordelia knocked at the red door, glancing at the highly polished black car parked at the kerb, the engine still running. Was that a perk of the job? A nice car? She smiled in anticipation. Maybe looking after someone else's brats – children- she corrected herself internally, wasn't such a bad move. 

The door opened... and apparently no-one was answering it. Cordelia's gaze dropped to the small girl standing in the entrance, her arms folded across her tiny chest. 

Long red pigtails hung down her back, as her bright green eyes swept Cordelia over, obviously summing her up. The little girl uncrossed her arms to tap one finger against her chin, thinking then smiled tightly. 

"You'll do," Willow decided then ran past Cordelia and down the path, a violin case in one hand. 

Cordelia stared after the little girl. Maybe she'd misjudged the whole 'bad move' thing a little. 

*

A/N: Cordelia meets dad, and we see a little more of little Willow, including exactly what her two previous nannies taught her. 

Review!! 


	2. Vocabulary

Disclaimer: I don't own the basic premise of the plot, it is loosely based on the movie 'Uptown Girls', and is a challenge at Chocolate Covered Strawberries Archive.

A/N: I know, Willow seems an unlikely candidate for a mini hellion, but remember, I haven't seen the movie, so I don't know how Dakota Fanning played it. Also, this is only the premise of the movie, that a rich, spoiled young woman becomes a nanny to a strange kiddo. Anything from then on is my idea.

Cordelia slipped off her sunglasses as she stepped into the hall. A soft wheat coloured carpet covered the floor, and the walls were papered in cream and gold. Cordelia raised one perfectly groomed eyebrow. Even as a child playing with Yves St Laurent make-up, she'd scribbled on the walls. This was hardly a kid-friendly environment.

_Great taste though_, she thought to herself, admiring the soft tones. She allowed a hint of a smile to curve her lips. Perhaps they wouldn't be the style-less freaks and need quite so much instruction in the art of what looked good.

"Hello?" she called into the empty hallway, checking her reflection in the big copper mirror hanging on the wall above a small polished table.

"Hello?" Cordelia blinked at the other speaker, unable to formulate thought for a few moments. _Hello, salty goodness!_ He had cheekbones like knives, piercingly bright blue eyes, and a long, rangy body which she could check out without hardship, clad as he was in faded, clinging jeans and a tee-shirt.

"Are you the nanny?" he asked, a little worried frown creasing his brow, and her heart sank. She was so not doing the cliché chasing him round the kitchen table boss-help thing. Why were all the good ones off limits?

She nodded, pasting on a brilliant smile as she offered him her hand. "I'm Cordelia Chase," she answered, giving him as always her mother's name. 'Giles' was all too well-known, associated as it was with her dad. "I read the position in the newspaper."

He jerked his head back inside the room he'd come from. "Come in, love."

She followed him obediently into a well-lit kitchen. The man snapped on a kettle, and turned back to look at her. "Right. Introductions. I'm Spike Wyndham-Pryce, and you passed the nibblet on her way out. She's Willow." Cordelia glanced up at a black and white photo on the wall. A laughing woman with pale hair held a toddler on her lap, playing with her hands.

"Yeah. That's Willow's mum," Spike turned back to the kettle, a husky note creeping into his voice. "She died two years ago."

"I would say sorry," Cordelia offered, "But I didn't know her." She gave Spike another bright smile. He looked at her askance, his eyebrows drawing together in a strange look, then shook his head and went back to the kettle.

"Tea or coffee?" he asked, picking up a packet of teabags. Cordelia screwed up her nose, catching sight of the instant coffee jar. Her coffee was imported, thank you very much.

"I'm fine," she answered hastily. "It's a nice place, Mr Wyndham Pryce." She looked around the kitchen once more, admiring it. A similar taste carried on into the room, little touches of elegance dotted here and there.

"My wife decorated it," he answered, sipping his tea as he sat down at the kitchen table. Cordelia slid into a seat opposite him. "Got as far as the second floor." He cleared his throat, and picked up a notepad sitting on the table.

"Right. Have you done this nanny-ing thing before?" he asked, glancing up at her. Cordelia decided to go for broke.

"Oh yeah," she answered breezily, tossing her hair behind her shoulders, and shooting him a flirtatious look. "I'm good with children. My friend just had this cute little baby and-"she looked around quickly. Her friend Kendall had actually just had a cute little baby, until it had spit up on her brand new raw silk shirt from Italy. She had so not been happy. If there were babies here, she was not doing this.

"Oh yeah?" he cocked an eyebrow, challenging her story, leaning back in his chair lazily. Cordelia sighed.

"Okay, I've not been big with children. But I like them," she added, hopefully."I just haven't...been around them.. all that much."

"Excellent." Cordelia looked up in shock, staring at him as he scribbled busily on the pad. Excuse me?

"Willow's eight, nearly nine, forget when," Spike paused to think, "Sodding hell. Don't remember. It's in the calendar. She goes to Sunnydale Preparatory School, starts at eight thirty, finishes at three thirty. On Mondays and Thursdays she has a violin lesson after school, Tuesdays, ballet, Wednesdays, chess, Fridays are science club, and Saturday mornings she has a riding lesson. Salary is," he named a figure that made Cordelia whistle appreciatively under her breath. It might not keep a girl long in Manolos, but it definitely went someway towards a pair every couple of months.

"So." He met her eyes once more, and his lips twisted into a half-smile. "Do you want the job?"

"Willow, love," Spike took the little girl's hand, and led her towards Cordelia. "This is your new nanny, Cordelia." Cordelia bestowed a warm smile on Willow. Willow cocked one eyebrow in a similar expression to her father's, and folded her arms across her chest, sizing Cordelia up critically.

Cordelia, Queen C of LA's sparkling social scene was so not taking this, especially from a nine year old. She looked down her nose snootily at the kid, and lifted her chin, letting her eyes flicker over... Willow, wasn't it?

The child had long reddish hair, braided into two pigtails down her back. Her skin was milky pale, but dotted with tiny freckles scattered across her cheeks. Her soft green eyes were concentrated on Cordelia, the tip of her tiny pink tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth as she thought it over. She was adorable, particularly with a soft pink to bring out the colour in her cheeks, or maybe a nice yellow, but, Cordelia thought grimly, the cute ones were the hardest. She'd been the prettiest kid in her class, after all and she'd made the babysitters _pay_.

"I don't forsee this having viable prospects, Daddy," Willow finally addressed her father, casting a final glance over Cordelia. "Does she have qualifications with a registered service?" Okay, make that adorable, with the vocabulary of a high scoring SAT student.

"I've got homework," Willow informed her father. "I'll be in my room."

"So," Spike grinned at Cordelia. "That's Willow. When do you want to start?"

A/N: Next chapter, Willow at school, the hotness of Cordelia's new boss, and a meeting in the park.

Review!!


	3. The gloves come off

A/N: This story hasn't been updated in a while, but hey – I said I'd get around to it.  
  
"Okay, kiddo," Cordelia propped her sunglasses on her head, looking around the road for the school-gate. 'Where is this Prep school?" The diminutive redhead sighed, looked bored, and pointed.  
  
"It's right over there. You may pick me up at three thirty precisely. I have you written in for a ten minute slot, and I cannot miss my ballet lesson, or Madame LeNay will start without me. I hate being late," the eight year old declared firmly. She held up a Palm Pilot, and clicked off an electronic item, then suddenly smiled up at Cordelia. "I give huge kudos to the fact that you managed to get me here on time." The smile was gone as quickly as it came, and Cordelia heard the child mutter, 'Did you learn to tell the time yet?'  
  
"Okay, hotshot-"Cordelia began, smiling her own, tight, 'I am Queen C of LA's finest, and no-one messes with Queen C' forced smile,  
  
"It's Willow," the little girl interrupted with a terse little sigh as her shoulders tightened with irritation. Cordelia's smile remained intact.  
  
"I know. So listen here, chica, I get paid to look after you. Which means it's my job. I don't have to like it." She bent down in front of Willow, clasping the girl's arms with her hands, and looked dead straight into Willow's eyes. "But if you make it hard for me, I promise you, I will make your life living hell." Willow blinked.  
  
"Glad we've got that straight, sweetheart," Cordelia finished, with a triumphant quirk to her smile. Willow smiled sweetly back up at her.  
  
"And if you do not do your job properly, I'll make your life living hell," she said, her voice dripping honey. Cordelia blinked, but the child skipped away, her plaid pleated skirt flaring with each little hop of her legs.  
  
"Brat," she muttered, walking away, not without a saccharine little wave from the wrist to Willow. Once inside the gate, Willow leant with her back against the wall, and pulled out her palm pilot once more. She pulled up the small graph.  
  
"Point one to me," she whispered, with a satisfied smirk.  
  
"Hello?" Cordelia called, dropping her keys into the small moulded silver bowl on the mantelpiece especially for that purpose, hoping that the hot boss was still around. "Hello?" she repeated, wandering toward the kitchen.  
  
A huge dog leapt out of the kitchen, barking, and jumped at her. Screaming, Cordelia fell backwards, the giant animal's paws catching on her cashmere sweater.  
  
"Ew, ew, ew,ew!" she moaned, pushing the hairy mutt's face away from hers as it tried to lick her to death. Her new boss loomed above her, a small smile curling the corners of his mouth, his bright blue eyes still as heartstoppingly gorgeous. He bent down, and stuck out a hand.  
  
"Sorry about that," he said, concern in his voice covering the hidden laughter. "That's Ammendment, Willow's dog." Cordelia got to her feet, and stared at the large, panting grey, wiry mutt looking up at her with soulful brown eyes.  
  
"She's an Irish wolfhound," Spike said helpfully. "We call her Amy."  
  
"Dogs weren't part of the job description," Cordelia said weakly. Spike grinned nonchalantly. "Amy's harmless. Really. She only needs a quick walk at lunchtime, the dogwalker comes at five to walk her."  
  
"Right," Cordelia nodded, still fixed on Spike's gorgeous face. "Just a walk at lunchtime." She seemed dazed.  
  
"Great. I knew you'd be perfect," he smiled at her, and she felt her knees go weak. "I've got to do some work. See you." He headed back up the stairs to the top floor. Amy thumped her tail hopefully against the wooden floor. Cordelia glared at her.  
  
"She gets a bonus point for being gorgeous," a skinny boy in a plaid waistcoat put in, leaning over Willow's shoulder as she noted things on her electronic computer. Willow shook her head disdainfully, her two long braids flying.  
  
"My dad doesn't go for the obvious ones," she answered dismissively, screwing up her nose. "He has taste." The boy laughed.  
  
"I saw her from the gate. Trust me, she gets the point," he informed her. Willow rolled her eyes expressively, taking a bite from her sushi.  
  
"All right. Peter says a bonus point for being gorgeous, which makes her more difficult an opponent. Subtract a point for no experience whatsoever with kids-"a wicked little grin spread over Willow's face. Another girl in a plaid skirt, her hair held back by a matching Alice band looked worried.  
  
"What does that mean?" she asked frowning. Willow inspected her nails, neatly trimmed and painted with clear nail polish. "It means that she has no idea what's going to hit her," she informed the girl, with a satisfied smile. "I say, one week. Bets, gentlemen."  
  
A small pile of dollars grew as the small chalkboard beside Willow was checked off with different bets. The grin spread over her face.  
  
"She wants living hell? I see no reason to disappoint her," she said lightly. The kids giggled.  
  
"Amy, heel," Cordelia ordered, trying to keep up with the wildly excited hound at the same time as not stepping in anything distinctly icky while in her favourite pair of Choos. "Amy, heel!" The dog ignored her, loping on and dragging an ineffective Cordelia behind her.  
  
"Amy, you dumb, stupid, horrible mutt, heel!" she yelled, finally losing her tenuous grip on the very end of the dog's lead. Amy gave a joyful bark and plunged ahead, bowling right into another dog owner whose cute Labrador looked rather worried and was licking his hand as Cordelia finally caught up, breathing hard after her impromptu run.  
  
"God, I am so sorry," she covered her hand with her mouth, her eyes widening, "I didn't know she was going to do that. She's like, sausage material, really, I have no control over her." There was a laugh, and the guy she'd just knocked over with her dog clambered to his feet, dusting himself off.  
  
"It's okay, really," he assured her. "Darla does it all the time to strangers." Cordelia looked at the yellow Labrador sitting beside him as he bent, tying his shoelaces. Darla panted, gazing up at Cordelia as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.  
  
He straightened, as she asked, 'Darla?" Then her mouth dried as she looked at him. He was tall, broad shouldered, dark with smouldering eyes, currently grinning at her.  
  
How lucky can one girl get?  
  
"Darla," he confirmed. "I named her after an old girlfriend. The dog is prettier." Cordelia laughed flirtatiously, gathering up Amy's lead.  
  
"So nice to meet you, what was your name?" she asked, smiling at him. He stuck out a hand.  
  
"Angel. Angel O'Connor. And you?" he grinned at her. Her smile broadened. Things were looking up when even a stupid mutt brought hotness a plenty. She glanced at the dog. Well, Amy had taste.  
  
"Cordelia," she answered.  
  
A/N: Tell me if you want more of this story! Next time, Willow tries to make life vee-ry difficult, Spike explains a little of their background, and Cordelia is late to school...  
  
Coming up soon, a 'makeover' goes awry, Willow runs away, and a hot date for the nanny... 


End file.
